Ways to Perfection
by The Tox
Summary: Kissing isn't that hard, yet it seems to be the only thing Mikasa can't do. Sasha plans to change that. [Mikasasha, vague future fic.]


Mikasa was wonderful, Sasha thought. She was good everything she tried, she was super strong, she was pretty, and she was a genius in every aspect. Whatever she decided to attempt at doing, she succeeded, and exceeded expectations constantly.

Except, and she had to admit this with as much regret and pain as her malnourished body could contain, at _this_. Mikasa picked up on horse riding, fencing, arching, hand-to-hand combat, cooking, and anything else she attempted. But she was the lousiest kisser Sasha had ever had the fortune to try, and it broke her heart to know that she would have to deal with this for the rest of her life now, because there was no way she could ever tell her lover – years of wooing spent to get to that part – that her tongue felt like probing metal in her mouth, and that her lips were sandpaper grating against hers.

The easiest thing would have been to come clean at once, and admit that she didn't quite enjoy their kissing, and maybe they should try a different technique. But Mikasa was so used to go with whatever came natural to her and succeed, so their first kiss turned into a second kiss and shortly thereafter a third kiss. Sasha had no time to stop them and talk, and she tried to focus on the fact that it was Mikasa she was kissing, so the technique shouldn't matter. She should just be happy that it was _her_, and be satisfied to get tongue action at all. And when their kisses evolved, and became mouth on neck, hands under shirts, hands under skirts, it became a bit more bearable, and Mikasa redeemed herself – partly – as a natural in every aspect.

But then, orgasms and pleasure later, Mikasa kissed her again and fell asleep, and Sasha was left with a sore mouth to snore with.

All of this, she revealed a week later in near stupor, a few glasses away from sobbing at the bar, to her friends and love advisors. Ymir laughed, utterly amused by the confession, and was elbowed in her stomach by the blonde seated by her side, when she said: "Maybe I'll have to give her lessons?"

"You should be honest," Historia told her, with a hand clasped over Sasha's. "Mikasa loves you. She will want to know."

Ymir drank of her own beverage, and her breath made Historia wrinkle her face as she leaned over her to speak.

"She's right. It's either that, or you hope and pray she'll get better with experience. But someone like her, she needs more guidelines than you'd think. It's not like she learned all those things on her own."

Sasha shook her head.

"Sure she did. She's amazing, she's good at everything she tries," she insisted. "Don't badmouth her."

"That girl could probably kill the entire scouting legion in her sleep, I wouldn't dream of it," Ymir retorted. "But you're so wrong, it's laughable."

"What Ymir is trying to say," Historia interjected gently, making Sasha focus back on her. "Is that Mikasa doesn't just do everything flawlessly on her own. We all need help. She picks up on instructions well, and if she understands it in theory, she can utilize it. Like when we were about to learn horse riding, I saw you talking to her before we all got on the horses. You gave her some advice, right?"

"I just told her the basics," Sasha replied. "She did it right at once."

"But she wouldn't have had, if you hadn't been there to tell her," Historia smiled softly. She was the sort of drunk who was not a drunk, but sober throughout the night. "If someone helps her know how something is done, there is no doubt in my mind that she will be able to do it. But kissing… You probably were her first, right?"

"Unless she went for Yeager of Arlert ," Ymir teased. "And those boys are way too virginal to know how it's done." Her comment was mostly unnoticed, since Sasha, realization dawning on her, understood just how true Historia's words were.

"I probably was…" she agreed, a warm blush spread across her cheeks because of the flooding alcohol through her system, and the casual giddiness of a first true love.

"So if you tell her how you want to be kissed, she will do it," Historia concluded.

"Just be sure to be completely honest. Don't sugarcoat it to spare her feelings," Ymir agreed, raising her glass in a sign of cheers. When Historia blushed at this, Sasha assumed that there was context she was missing, but her mind was heavy with plans on how to break it to her own girlfriend, so gossip could wait for another eve.

Mikasa had spent the day with new recruits, her role as a tutor fully realized when they had begun to idolize her after a heroic save on the last expedition. She was already asleep when Sasha, walking on slightly wavering legs, entered their room. Collapsing on the bed, she slept in casual attire, and woke the next day hours after Mikasa had left, tucked into the sheets as comfortable as a clowder of kittens.

Smelling Mikasa's musky scent on the sheets as she woke up made her sign in light frustration. Despite the advice given, she couldn't imagine breaking it down to her wonderful girlfriend. If she hurt Mikasa's feelings, she could never forgive herself, but if she kept accepting bad kisses, she might get turned off by her completely, and after the things she had done with her skilful hands the other evening, that aspect was far less preferable.

It was their leisure day, and they had plans to eat dinner at a pub in town, rather than in their dining hall, where rations were even lower during their days off. When she had readied herself and snuck in some breakfast, she went to search for Mikasa, all whilst planning her words carefully in her mind, only to scrap each and every idea.

Her deep concentration set her off into a blind gait forward, and when she walked smack into something hard she half-expected it to be a wall, only to see countless of books and a boy fall to the ground.

"Oh gosh I am so sorry," she hurriedly apologized as she started to dig the victim up from under the pile of literature. As luck would have it, it was the virginal blonde friend of Mikasa's, one of few of her comrades she had more memories of seeing reading than performing awesome stunts in the air during training.

"Ouch," Armin whined as he rubbed his sore body, most likely sporting a few more bruises now.

"Sorry," Sasha said again as she pulled him to sit upright. She went to help him pile the books again, but he ended up reorganizing the order in which she put them, so she gave up.

"It's all right," he told her. "I didn't see much, and there was a corner. I'm as much at fault." With all the books in one collection again, he lifted them up – though his weak body told of the strain this put on him – and started to leave. "I'll see you later," he said politely as normal, just as Sasha realized that he might be able to help her.

"Wait," she called, and he nearly dropped the books again from being startled. "I need to ask you something, please," she elaborated, jogging backwards to stand beside him again, and she helped him put the books back down to converse.

"Oh, that's right," Armin said to her, with his usual gentle voice which spoke of a smile never reaching his eyes. "Congratulations. Mikasa told me you're going out now."

Hearing the confirmation from someone else made Sasha grin triumphantly.

"We are," she agreed. "So I guess we're brother and sister in law now!"

"Eh… You know-"

"Ah, but that's not what I was going to say. I was going to ask, how do you think… How do you think Mikasa handles bad news?" Armin frowned slightly, and she quickly picked up on the implication. "Oh no, I am not breaking up, I just… Ehm, has Mikasa ever been kissed? By someone other than me?"

With a closed hand against his chin, in typical philosopher pose, Armin seemed to consider it.

"Not that I know of. But you're the first person she's told us about, and I don't think she would deliberately hide something like that, unless it would be Jean, you know, for Eren's sake. But since he still acts the way he does around her, I don't think anything has happened. As for how she handles bad news, I would say that it depends, but…" He looked up thoughtfully at his invested listener. "I think she can handle critique on her kissing ability without problem."

Sasha gasped.

"Ymir told you?"

"Huh? What, no, I-"

"Historia then? Ah! What if they went and told Eren too, do you think he'd tell Mikasa?"

"Sasha, I think-"

"She has to hear it for me, I have to go! Thanks Armin bye Armin!" Sasha had already started to run away as she said her good byes, and left him in the metaphorical dust from her hasty exit. The thought of Mikasa hearing gossip about her horrible kisses, and realizing the betrayal of Sasha speaking about it, did not sit well with any part of her bony body. She needed to come clean and apologize as soon as possible, and make sure that Mikasa knew that no matter how hard her tongue was and how uncomfortable her lips may be, they could still be together and more wonderful than any couple in the entire scouting legion.

Ymir and Historia included.

Sprinting through the hallways, ponytail bouncing behind her, she checked every nook and cranny of the headquarters, every training ground, lecture hall, open office and common area. When she was at the verge of spreading her wings of freedom and scout the town as well, she bumped into someone whom had often been referred to as her partner in crime.

"Hey, watch it," he scolded in a non-harsh manner when she nearly collided with him, but avoided a head on crash at the last second.

"Connie!" she exclaimed instead. "Have you seen Mikasa?"

With a stern expression, he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at her chidingly for only a second, before his face broke into a grin.

"Lost your girlfriend after only a week?" he teased her.

"I didn't lose her," Sasha said. "But I might!" His grin faded as he read her panic. "Please tell me Ymir or Historia hasn't told you anything!"

"As if," he snorted. "What's gotten into you?"

Sasha exhaled, thinking that if it was a rumour, and Connie hadn't picked up on it, there was no direct danger. Then she pulled him aside, trusting him to keep quiet if she asked him to, and relayed her tale. Admitting it aloud without alcohol to aid was a bit tougher than she had anticipated, but she spoke the truth to him, and his patience worked wonders.

Connie was often discredited as stupid, she had been well aware of this during their training days. In turn, she had often been viewed similarly, and to this day there were people she knew whom had never come to know her as anything but "potato girl". But often, she thought that he was the wisest person she knew, and his advice outranked anyone else's.

"I know I am not the smartest," he said when she was done. "But it sounds like Armin figured it out on his own. Ymir is a jerk, but I don't think she'd say anything. So you don't have to worry."

"What about Mikasa?" Sasha lamented. "What do I do?"

Connie was short, and Sasha thought that at times, he had grown even shorter, failing to realize that it was she whom had grown. This was especially highlighted when he reached to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and just barely managed to place it on her collarbone.

"What you had planned to do. She'll appreciate it if you're just honest."

With her best friend's blessing, and a heap of thanks heaved upon him, she felt immediately at ease. They chatted amiably for a while about the latest he had heard, until Sasha spotted her girlfriend at the other end of the hall, as luck would have it. Saying her good byes and getting her good lucks, she left Connie be and rushed, zigzagging fellow soldiers, until she reached her destination and destiny.

Much of the day had passed them by, and Sasha's vigorous search had left her winded and starving. Noticing her state immediately, Mikasa opted for them to go eat at once, and linked arm in arm, they left the headquarters for a walk to town with a dusk backdrop.

The pub they chose was a dimly lit comforting square of wood, with just enough sleazy drunks to make it a clichéd location. However, they had seats by the window, and though they wore civilian outfits for their date, Mikasa's sleeveless shirt revealed her muscles clearly enough to dissuade any unwanted company. Sasha liked to look at Mikasa's abs, as she had always done, and she was happy to see Mikasa don such clothing for their night out.

Both were in skirts, as normal, and they dined with the sort of air that new lovers always seem to surround themselves in, where they only really were there for each other. Mikasa offered to cut her meat, but Sasha ate on by herself, absolutely accepting of the fact that if she had to spend her entire salary on food to still her hunger this once, she would do so.

Mikasa was not big on small talk, but she made occasional comments whenever she wanted Sasha to speak on a subject. Though she was big on shoving in food, she took enough pauses to speak.

"I ran into Armin today when I was looking for you," Sasha said near the end of her first steak, aggressively cutting through the meat meanwhile. "You told Eren too?"

"Naturally," Mikasa commented. "You said we should tell people."

"Yeah," Sasha smiled softly. "But ah, how did he take it? I wasn't too worried about Armin, but Eren has that… brother vibe."

"He said it's fine," Mikasa replied evenly. "And not much else. You don't have to worry about him, he doesn't think poorly of you."

Relief washed over Sasha, as she drank the apple cider they had ordered.

But talk of Eren was a distraction, just like the excessive eating and cider consumption. She had avoided the subject for too long, and with Ymir, Historia, Armin and Connie's respective blessings, she knew that it would be a wise choice to speak up. Inhaling, exhaling, and breathing normally to not confuse Mikasa, she gathered her thoughts again, lined up the words correctly in her mind-

-and watched Mikasa pay for the check, rise to her feet, grab Sasha's hand and say that they should head back.

It was hard to refuse a woman whom had just paid for a delicious meal, especially when that woman was her thoughtful and wondrous girlfriend. Sasha had no choice but to sigh happily at the thought of their relationship, and she did well to ignore the memory of lips against lips. Thankfully, handholding was as much of public displays of affection she got out of her.

Through the night, the streets were mostly bereft of busy town life, but the structures and cobblestone roads took away the sense of serenity Sasha liked of solitude. When they had retaken the walls, won against the titans, and fulfilled their duty, she liked to imagine leading a life by the forest again.

Back in the barracks, with the door closed, Sasha felt a hand comb through her hair. Mikasa brushed it aside, and kissed her neck, making her weak legged at once. From behind, Mikasa embraced her, strong hands on her waist and mouth leaving soft pecks along her neck and exposed shoulder, and Sasha felt her resolve fade, thinking of how lovely those lips were.

Then Mikasa slowly pulled her around, and brought her lips up for a kiss mouth on mouth, and the loss of contact was just enough time needed for Sasha to remember her purpose.

"Stop!" she yelped hastily, just as she was about to be reminded of Mikasa's technique.

Incredulous, Mikasa stared at her, and it was the most lost Sasha had ever seen her. But she couldn't back down now.

"Am I… was I the first person you've kissed?" Sasha asked, thinking of a polite way to phrase it. Mikasa's lack of negative response gave her the answer. "Have you ever, ehm, been told how to kiss?"

"You press your mouth against someone else's mouth and you push your tongue into their mouth," Mikasa replied. "Armin told me."

Sasha felt bad for whatever lover Armin had, and hoped they would be as kind as her to give him proper feedback. Yet it made her positive, for it was just like Historia had said; Mikasa had indeed utilized the technique foretold.

"That's not quite right," she said. "It doesn't have to be methodical. It should be… sensual."

Sneaking her arms around Mikasa's shoulders, Sasha leaned closer. "Let me take the lead," she breathed against Mikasa's lips, and as her lover closed her eyes in affirmation, she pressed their lips together.

Soft, savoury, her lips brushed against Mikasa's in a slight pout. She felt the harsh, strained lips ease, the tension leaving as the gentleness of the kiss prolonged. Slowly, as she kissed them, they opened for her, and their kiss became wetter with two half open mouths tasting each other.

There was no force, but there was lust, as Mikasa's pulled her closer so that their bodies were flushed against each other. Kiss after kiss they shared in their proximity, with hands attentively moving over each other's bodies, Mikasa's brushing downwards, Sasha's holding on tighter.

Mikasa made an attempt with her tongue, sliding it inside of Sasha's mouth during the kisses, and Sasha accepted its intrusion, and took to sucking on it, earning a moan. Mikasa repeated the motion when Sasha pushed their tongues into her mouth instead, and soon their kisses could be bolder, as they experimented, doing everything two lovers could do with eager mouths.

Kissing lead to the bed, and the bed lead to nudity, and the sheets lead to private pleasure. Mikasa moved naturally with Sasha's body, and they were synchronized in their exploration, fitting together like two pieces to a puzzle. Mikasa's fingers sliding between her folds to make her legs twitch and her body wither, and repaying the action with two fingers pushed inside and a thumb to twirl her pearl, all while connected mouth to mouth, sharing breath, saliva and moans.

When both girls were exhausted with their lusty play, they lazily kissed again and again, more slowly for each contact. Sasha fell asleep that night with her lips swollen and sore of wonderful kisses, and thought about how there was nothing her lover could not do. And Mikasa fell asleep tasting Sasha on her lips, and thought that there was nothing her lover could not teach her to perfect.


End file.
